A Portly American Gent and A British Lady
by Odd Fangirl
Summary: When Alfred and Arthur's relationship loses it's spark, they change the game to regain the passion lost. However, they soon find themselves in the blurred line between love and a lustful obsession. UKUS. Weight Gain. Crossdressing. Rated T to be safe.
1. The Secrets are Out

Seems like it was yesterday when a heavy blushed Arthur confessed that he loved Alfred on his visit to England. Alfred was naturally hesitant, since it came so out of the blue. Their history wasn't good either, what with the Revolutionary war. But, some way Alfred decided to hang out with Arthur more often, to the other countries delight. In a strange way Arthur could be an affectionate and tender soul once he warmed up to Alfred, however in the same breath is seems Arthur would get so unsure and blush hard dismissing and making excuses for how much he cared for the boy with the big blue eyes.

Alfred had no idea at the time just how much Arthur meant he loved him. Arthur has never been one to express his true feelings that weren't anger or frustration. In an even more confusing way that was how you knew that he cared, though Alfred didn't quite get why the nation couldn't just say what was on his mind. There was a large communication barrier between them. Not to mention the fact of how spacey and distant Arthur could become at any given moment. It was a difficult friendship to say the least.

At first, it was just an unlikely friendship. The two nations were back to being on good terms. It was the usual care and concern in between yelling and shouting. He had been denying his feeling for a long time the both of them. Then one day, Alfred got it. Friends became lovers.

An awkward first date became several dates in a blur. Hand holding went from a difficult gesture to an everyday exchange between the two countries. Affectionate nicknames like "Iggy" and "Love" became adopted. Tender touches became commonplace. A day didn't go by without a kiss on the cheek. The two reunited wherever their bosses would let them and Alfred would stay with Arthur. In the dark, passion flourished with breathy words and intense kisses with love bites. It was heavenly.

One day, when Arthur is being distant, Alfred got on a diet. Arthur begins staying later at the pubs longer and longer while Alfred was away in America. When Alfred did come back to England, everything has changed. Arthur didn't go on dates with him, hand holding is discouraged and he down right avoids hand holding. The nicknames are dropped for their formal names. There are no kisses or tender touches. There is no passion in the night, instead frustration and anger breeds in their place while they sleep in separate rooms. Most of the time, Arthur drunk out of his mind. He is shouting and whining about how much things had changed between them in every drunken stupor. What has changed so much?

Alfred is a hero, and hero's do not give up when times get tougher. Like when their boyfriend acts up and decides to nearly end the relationship. But, even the best of heroes need a side-kick sometimes. Alfred needs one right now, before they loose everything they work so hard for. While Arthur is sleeping off a drinking binge, Arthur calls someone up on his cell phone. It is Francis on the other line.

"Ah, hello Alfred. So nice to hear from you my friend. How can I help you?" the Frenchman inquires.

"Francis, we have a problem over here." Alfred says in a serious tone. "Arthur is thinking about breaking up with me."

"What? But I though you two patched that up. You did not seem yourself at the last world conference though. That might explain things. Do not worry my American friend, Francis knows everything about these matters."

"Dude, that's the only reason I called you." Alfred says bluntly.

"So, what was Arthur saying before he wanted to break up with you, Alfred. He is hard to read I know."

"Well, he was drunk and he said things changed between us. Whatever that means." Aflred is in confusion about how quick things began to change.

"I see." He says thinking. "Alfred, have you done anything lately that you hadn't done previously?"

"...I might have gone on a little diet, not that I need to or anything. But, yea that's it."

"Hm, maybe there is something that Arthur is hiding, or maybe..." Francis begins. "There is something you are not telling me Alfred." He is implying terrible things about Alfred

"I—I am so telling you everything!" Alfred yells into the cell phone.

"You're voice tells me otherwise." Francis says. "Just admit it, you have a secret. But you can tell me. I keep things hush hush."

"Like I would tell you, French guy." He will not listen to him.

"Then, at least tell Arthur. If you want to save you relationship, that is."

For some reason, Alfred will do anything at this point to have his old Iggy back. Even tell him something he really will not like to hear. Something Alfred will rather die than say aloud. He's been keeping it from Arthur since their relationship began to escalate to love.

Alfred sighs. "Okay dude. Thanks."

"My pleasure. Hope it all works out." Francis says.

Alfred clicks off the line and places his cell back into his oversized bomber jacket.

He goes into the bathroom, takes off his glasses and runs the faucet. He splashes water on his face before staring at himself in the mirror in silence for a long time to gain composure. He gives himself a pep-talk. Not that he needed it at all, but just to be sure.

"It's okay dude, everything will work out okay. You're the hero right? Heroes always get their happy ending." Alfred says before toweling his face off and putting his glasses back on.

He walks to Arthur's room with his chin high. Just say one little thing, and everything will be better. Besides if Arthur could cast spells and talk to imaginary creatures, Alfred could like weird stuff too. His confidence is back to it's highest when he opens the door to find Arthur tossing and turning in bed. When the light hits his eyes he pulls his bed's blanket over his eyes.

"Yo Arthur! I wanna talk to ya." Alfred beams.

"Go the hell away you—you whatever you are." He slurs heavily as he turns away from Alfred.

"Listen man, I don't know what happened," Alfred begins as he walks to the bed and pulls the covers away from Arthur. He's too drunk to put up a fight. His clothes are all disheveled and half way undone while his hair is just a complete mess. "But, we gotta talk this out."

"No we don't n—now just bugger off." Arthur turns his face to Alfred to reveal he's been crying as evidence by the tear stains on his face. Alfred just sits on the side of the bed and keeps talking.

"Look, I don't know what happened while I was gone but, I'm sorry, okay? So like stop getting so drunk over it." Alfred is actuallys worries about his drinking most of the time.

"Yah don't get it you—you—person." He keeps slurring. "I loved you and you go and change on me—just—just like before," He almost bursts into tears.

"How did I change? Dude, I'm still your hero, remember? " Alfred tries to calm him down. He suceeds and Arthur continues on.

"I can—cannot shag a stick." He slurs.

"Dude you are really not making any sense at this point." What did a stick have to do with this?

"You—are-are too blooming skinny." He slurs, but realizes what he says. "Wait—I-I don't mean that. Ignore me!" He tries to yell.

 _What?_

"Arthur you are so drunk you don't even know what you're saying." Alfred tries to dismiss the confession. After all, he is drunk. Then, Arthur weakly grasps his collar and drags it toward his face. The older nation means business.

"Stop being so—so stupid." He sounds more serious. "I loved you as a fat bastard and no—now look at you! You too freakin' skinny you bloke. I can't s—shag that." He confesses. "I'm sorry."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold up." Alfred is trying in desperation to understand this. "You liked me fat. More than you like me skinny?" He knows that Arthur cannot lie when he is drunk like this.

Arthur tries to smack the younger nation but misses by a mile. "Do—Do I have to say it in a dif—different language? Ye—yes you bloody stupid git."

"So that's what you were babbling on about that I didn't listen to. That's what changed!"

Arthur just nods his head. He then sits up and starts trying to smack Alfred hundreds of time. "Why couldn't you just stay the same! What was wrong with you you git! Why don't you tell me anything anymore! I would have told you no!" He madly slurs.

"Dude, you should have just told me. It's not like I enjoy being on a diet or anything." Alfred admits.

He continues. "Actually, It would be awesome not to have to be on one. Thanks man!"

Alfred sits up and leaves the bedroom, leaving Arthur to fall asleep in his drunkenness as the drunk nation flops his head on the bed mumbling something.

* * *

The morning after Arthur's drunken confession, Alfred made the heroic decision to go off his diet to keep his relationship with Arthur. After all, he had a fast metabolism, right? Alfred did miss having things like sugary cereals and donuts with coffee for breakfast. Or even better, fast food breakfasts! Those are the best in his opinion. He wishes Arthur could actually cook something without burning it to a crisp. But, he decides to go to the nearest fast food join to pick up something for him and Arthur. But, when he arrives to the quaint English house, Arthur still isn't up.

He puts the food bags on the small dining room table. He is probably just spaced out and confused out of his mind right now.

"Yo! Arthur! Breakfast!" He yells in the direction of Arthur's room. After a while there is an angry response.

"Shut up!" Arthur yells down the hall. "Stop yelling it hurts!"

"I thought you were on a diet because you are a fat arse!" He yells again getting closer to the dining room in his house.

"Not anymore!" Alfred yells back.

Arthur stumbles a bit into the dining room. He looks like a walking mess, his terrible messy blonde hair, bushy brows, his clothes all stained with some beer and clothes undone and full of wrinkles. But he has a smirk on his face.

"Couldn't take it could you? I knew it. Once a fat arse, always a fat arse." He Arthur says with satisfaction. He has a throbbing headache but that wouldn't stop him from enjoying this.

Alfred would let him have it. "Yep, totally broke down. Now eat your food." He says pointing at the second bag.

Arthur just sits down and arranges his breakfast, while Alfred just sits down and frantically tears into the sack. How undignified. Arthur eats his breakfast quite slow and delicately in nature while Alfred scarfs it down like he hasn't eaten in days. Arthur just sighs as he continues eating. He thought he has taught the nation better than that. Too busy coddling him he supposes.

"You know" Alfred says in between huge bites of pancakes. "I thought I would have to tell you my no so awesome secret." He puts in another huge piece. "But, you totally spilled it man."

"What did I spill Alfred? Mum's scone recipe?" Arthur says trying to hide the worry in his voice. Beer is his truth serum, you could get anything out of him with enough pints.

"You hate me skinny, so I stopped my diet for you." Alfred polishes off his meal. "I didn't know you liked that kinda thing Arthur. But hey! Whatever, no diet, woo!" Alfred put his arms up in happiness.

Arthur nearly choked to death on his breakfast but eventually swallowed. "I said what exactly?" He puts down his fork.

"Something about loving me when I was fat and that you can't shag skinny people." Alfred says obliviously waving his utensil around.

Arthur's jaw just drops. His heavily guarded secret was out in the open. It was more indecent that hugging the Queen of England.

"Shag?" He trembles. "I—I didn't mean that, I was just humoring you git!" He snaps back.

"No man, you meant it. You don't lie when your drunk off your as-"

He will not let Alfred finish that sentence. "Those are lies!" Arthur objects. "Besides what do you know. Nothing in that empty head of yours." He mocks.

"I know what changed between you and me, I went on a diet so you went pub happy about it." Alfred says, getting more of the fattening food from another bag.

"I did no such thing." Arthur says with dignity, placing a hand on his chest. "I am a gentleman."

"Who likes bigger gentlemen." Alfred counters between his bites.

"Will you shut up you bloody idiot! Where is the off button on you?"

"Jokes on you cause I was gonna tell you that I like dudes in woman's clothing so the egg is on your face!" Alfred laughs before realizing he said his dirty secret out loud.

"Oh shit!" He blurts out, dropping his fork in shock. "Dude, I wasn't thinking!" He covers his mouth.

Arthur just sits there smiling, arms crossing. Now he couldn't tell a single soul without him telling too. He is putty in his hands. The former pirate knows that this secret is safe.

"Stop that! I so do not." Alfred defends himself, balling up his hands into fists.

"Tell you what Alfred, now that I have you by the bollocks, how about we keep these secrets between us." He smiles mischievously. "You shut up about it, and I will too. On one condition..." His grin gets wider.

Alfred's confidence leaves him completely. This isn't going to end well between them. He is scared to death of what the Englishman is going to say next. Please, just don't mention anything. He's the hero.

"...Do what you do best you glutton. Get fat. You bloody pig." Arthur declares with an aura of superiority. He laughs, this game is set and match. The American's weakness is his weight and Arthur will exploit it to no end.

For once in a long time, the hero is unsure. One one hand, he can just go along with what Arthur is suggesting and get his relationship back, on the other, he can keep his dignity and his diet. He is silent for a long time. This is a serious situation that requires a lot of thinking, and Alfred wasn't about to be playing this game with Arthur. Then again, he knows for a fact that he hides his true feelings through his words often. So, maybe it will not be as bad as he thinks it will be. He makes a bold decision.

"Yes!" He says "I'll do it!" He's back to his old self in no time flat.

Arthur isn't expecting that. "What?" He begins to blush at the thoughts running around his head. A larger lover would be bliss. Sure, he is great already, but...that will be even better. Bloody fantastic even. He is having difficulty not smiling so he covers his mouth.

"I—I thought you didn't want that." He forces out. "What, do you have no dignity?"

Alfred is just beaming. "Not for you Iggy." He continues, picking up the fork and scarfing down the food.

His blush is redder as it spreads ear from ear. "Don't—Do not call me that! You have not right!" He scolds. It is has been too long since he heard the American say his nickname for him. His heart is beating so fast, it's about to explode. Would he really do so much for a washed up person like him? After all they are going through? He must be an idiot to agree to it, but Alfred is his idiot.

"T—Thank you but you really shouldn't. It's not good for you—Not that I'm thinking about your welfare in this situation!" Arthur snaps.

Alfred just smiles with his big blues behind thin glasses. "I don't care!" He says with pride shoving a piece of food in his mouth.

"See? This is why you Americans are so damn fat." Arthur says pointing at how much he's eating.

Alfred just laughs knowing he's done right if Iggy is mad about it. Then he remembers what he had just blurted out a few minutes ago. He gets weak in the knees.

"You aren't gonna tell anyone are you?" Alfred pleads, putting the plastic fork down.

"No." Arthur replies. "In fact, maybe—no it's a ludicrous idea." Arthur stops himself to Alfred's dismay.

"What? Come on man don't leave me hanging! This is important!" Alfred yells.

"Maybe..." Arthur is thinking about something, hard.

Their relationship is good, but it can be better. If Alfred is going to the ends of the earth, should he return the favor and humor him at least? Not that he's doing it for his benefit. It's just what a gentleman does. He returns good favors.

 _Alfred's happiness matters too._

"...Maybe I could do that for you?—Don't you over do it though!" He yells. "I'm not about to be a Nancy boy for you git!"

"Do what? Dude speak English!" Alfred lacks understanding of Arthur's proposal. Maybe Arthur should stop the British slang for a bit.

He just stands up, reaching across the table to grab at the American's jacket and pulling him in closer and yells at the top of his lungs "I'll dress up for you, you bloody idiot! There! Is that small enough for you to understand!"

Arthur immediately takes it back, but he doesn't let go of the jacket. His touch is more tender. "I—I didn't mean that." He laughs nervously. Did he really says that aloud?

"Just, just for our relationship. It's what a gentleman does." He explains it away letting go of Alfred's bomber jacket in hesitation. He could hold on to him forever.

Alfred just is having stars in his eyes. "You'd do it? Dude that's awesome!" He sequels. He frantically searches in his jacket for something. Once he finds it he pulls it out a photograph and forces it in front of Arthur's eyes, despite his babbling on and protests.

Arthur looks at the the photo and rips it out his hands. This isn't happening. He is going to wake from his drunken stupor and this will all be over.

It is an old photograph, probably after World War II. It was of a housewife in pointed toe stiletto heels. Wearing a dress with short sleeves and a fluffy skirt that only fluffs out from several petticoats. She has stockings with a line in the back held up by a tight girdle, Arthur assumes. Her knockers come to a point, making her bosoms look huge under her small coke-of-beads collar. Must be the bras of the time. Her hair has been permed into curls, with cat eye glasses to accent her earrings. She has a half apron round her waist with heart shaped pockets and enough fill to kill someone. Alfred wasn't kidding about his secret. Then again, he did close his eyes a lot when they were doing questionable things, is imagining Arthur dressed up like this the whole time? Arthur is actually a bit discouraged at the fact it isn't him as a female pirate or a Victorian woman of questionable virtue. Something sexy. That he might be able to stand. Alfred just wants a British housewife in his arms. It's so...Innocent.

Arthur is desperate to please the anticipation in his big blue eyes. "If you can keep your mouth shut.." Arthur looks around before walking toward the country, whispering in his lover's ear "I'll do it."

"Yes!" Alfred screeches in pure happiness starling Arthur half to death. "You'll be an awesome wife Iggy! I just know it!" Alfred laughs. He stands up at the table. "We'll start today!" He grabs the arm of a protesting Brit while dragging him against his will to the door.

'"Just when did I say that!" Arthur yells. "And what is this we you're taking on about!"

Alfred just snatches Arthur's car keys and drags Arthur out the door to his car, the older nation protesting all the way into the vehicle. Arthur knows for a fact that this is a terrible idea. Yet, If this is what they have been missing their entire relationship, Arthur would do it no matter what. He will not let Alfred go through his fingers again. Not if he has any say about it. The Brit just buckles his seatbelt and lets himself go along for the ride this American is planning as the blue eyed nation starts the car. Not that Arthur would ever tell Alfred that directly to his face.

"This is gonna be so great!" He says happily. For once, he remembers to drive on the correct side of the road without Arthur's nagging.

Just let the boy enjoy himself for a little while. Then, be the adult and stop it. Easy enough. But, maybe once this determined hero got going, stopping it will be harder than Arthur would expect. They are going in deep into uncharted territory with their fragile relationship. Hopefully, this big change will not break it, but bring them closer. Arthur could manage, he is a strong country.

He just worries about Alfred.

* * *

Hello dear readers! Odd fangirl here. First time writing two kinks in one, weight gain and crossdressing you lucky ducks.

This time around it's UKUS. Because, to me, Britain will always top. Always. For some reason I think it's more logical to have the older nation be the more dominate one in the relationship.

If anyone is OCC or lacking in personality, please let me know.

So! If you enjoy this story so far, please review dear reader! Favorites and Follows are much appreciated. This will be multiple chapters so the fun doesn't end here.


	2. For You and Me

"You know Alfred, maybe, just maybe, this is a terrible idea." Arthur begins, "I—I mean have you thought about the consequences to our actions? Not that you would, you git." He says looking out the window. He's in deep thought.

Arthur cares about Alfred. Too much to feel real. After thinking about the situation while driving to where ever Alfred is bloody taking them, Arthur regrets that he has says anything at at all about this and just dropped the entire thing by saying he would keep the secret. It should have been done there, but it isn't. What Arthur is regretting the most is forcing him to go off his diet. I mean, wouldn't it be terrible for him to be self-conscious all the time? Not to even mention the possible health risks he is going to be taking doing this endeavor. All this fuss he would go through over some silly preference that Arthur has no idea when or where it came from. We are talking about Alfred here not just anyone off the street! Arthur would rather die that see anything bad happen to him.

"I totally have!" Alfred chirps. "In fact, I have an entire plan! So there, I have been thinking about this."

Alfred continues blabbing on while driving. "Beside who cares about the consequences when we can have some fun together! Not me."

Arthur did not like that answer in the slightest. He can think for a moment about what might happen but, no. Alfred will not take no for an answer at this junction, he is too determined to get the relationship back the spark that has left. He, being the over simulated child he still is, he has already thought over how this is going to go down in his mind. What little of it he possesses. Arthur will not like it, he can tell but the looking in those eye of Alfred's.

"So, what is in this damn plan that is so special?" Arthur says as he tries not to look him directly in the eye.

"Okay here we go: here's the plan. You go full monty on the whole crossdressing thing, and I do this whole weight business bit by bit. There you go, isn't it perfect!" He is absolutely beaming.

"What! Why do I have to put everything into this while you just get to go step by step! I don't think that fair or very sane Alfred. In fact, I'm not agreeing to this anymore so you can just turn the car around because I am not for the life of me dealing with this for one more second!"After speaking his grievances, Arthur crosses his arms.

Alfred frowns for a bit, before lighting back up again. "Okay better idea, and dude you're going to love it! How about we both just go crazy on this!"

"What would that mean exactly?" The Brit is skeptical as always.

"Well, um, I'll do this weight thing really well and you do the whole dress up thing as best as you possibly can!" The American says.

Arthur's heart stings hearing the hesitation Alfred has in his voice about the whole "weight" thing.

"You know what, Alfred? I won't tell anyone really. You don't have to do this—Just because I'm being nice to you for once."the Brit pleads.

"No way dude!" Alfred protests. "I'm so not going to leave you out in the cold like that! If I get to enjoy this, you should too." He's grinning wide per usual.

"Besides, it's kinda my fault isn't it?" He continues. "The reason why we're in the mess in the first place?"

"No, it never has been. It's always my fault for being so bloody distant." Arthur immediately counters.

"Dude! Iggy my man! Don't be so hard on yourself, how were we suppose to know?" Alfred shrugs.

"I knew, I always knew about this." Arthur confesses. "I just have been keeping it bottled up."

Alfred almost stops the car causing them to jolt forward. He isn't expecting that in the slightest.

"What!" he yells " You mean you've had these feeling the whole time and didn't say anything?"

Arthur snaps. "It's not exactly the most socially acceptable thing Alfred, you don't just shout it down the streets like it's nothing! It's private, and it will stay that way. Besides, how long have you been keeping you secret hush hush? Now let's stop before we get ourselves into trouble!"

"Too bad, we're already here." Alfred says parking the car in a tiny spot in front of an interesting store. Before he has the chance to unbuckle, Arthur grabs his bomber jacket. His big blues meet Arthur's green eyes.

"Alfred, this really is all my doing. I'll do your portion but I forbid you to return the favor. I—I just don't want anything to happen—I mean who knows what will become of this, Love?" Arthur says, in worry.

Alfred is in surprise not at how fast the nation changes his mind, but at the fact he goes straight back to being the Iggy he loves in a split second. The nickname, oh that nickname. How long had it been? They are just starting and already he's back to his lovey-lovely self that he actually is. It really has been their secrets that have been splitting them apart. Faced with them, Arthur can't help but go back to being the worrying, coddling, loving creature he is before Alfred left. If fueled a fire within him. If just talking about it makes him fall back in love, what great thing will happen when the actually do their secret desires? This is worth the stupid weight.

There's a tense atmosphere before Alfred broke it. He took one of Arthur's hands and held it tightly between his. The older nation looked deeper in his eyes out of concern.

"Iggy, a great person told me to never leave a soldier behind. That was you. Say whatever you want but we're doing this together." Alfred says.

Ir is so mature and unexpected of him. It just hits Arthur in all the right places. He'd rather die than be seen in woman's clothes even in the bedroom alone. But for Alfred, he go walking around London like that for him. If only to make him happy.

"O—Oh alright. But only because I know you're determined, love." Arthur gives in from his facade for a moment.

Alfred grins and unbuckles, getting out the car in a hurry while slamming the door shut. He is practically sprinting toward the little store, that of which Arthur can tell is a bad idea. So, he doesn't move and inch from his place in the car. Alfred will have no problems picking what he wants right? But then again...

Arthur sighs before releasing the belt buckle and opening the car door. He closes it firmly but without slamming it and slowly follows the American inside to make sure he doesn't get lost or anything. You never know with Alfred. He takes a sad look at the well dressed woman mannequins and sighs. This isn't going to be easy, there was no doubt about it.

Alfred is going through several racks of clothing. Turns out, it's a vintage clothing store, suiting Alfred's tastes to perfection. There are dresses, skirts, heck even the underpinning which Arthur freezes at the thought of having to wear. Alfred makes a motion for Arthur to come closer as he shakes his head while walking to the overly happy blue eyed child of a man.

"Yo, what's your measurements? It's kinda important." Alfred asks moving through various dresses.

"Um well...I don't know."

Alfred turns to him. "Dude, you've got to be kidding me Iggy."

"Well I don't usually have to get such fitted clothing like this, Alfred." he whispers angrily.

"Then I guess well just have to try everything on..." Alfred begins. Arthur stops him immediately.

"Okay, fine. Don't tell a soul that I know this. I'm a gentleman." Arthur whispers the numbers and sizes into his ear.

Alfred just nods and goes picking through everything trying to find just the right thing. Arthur stands there, out of place waiting for Alfred to just pick something and for them to leave before anyone sees.

"Will you hurry up you git." he whispers.

"Oh, yea, right." He laughs nervously. He is in his own little world, think about patterns and colors that would go with those green eyes and blonde hair. What kind of make up for that matter. Even better what will go underneath it all.

Alfred begins getting down to business. He begins throwing clothing at Arthur, who now has the embarrassing job of holding all the frilly stuff. If he didn't love him so much, he will have smacked him right about now. But, thankfully Alfred gets everything he thinks for a fact that Arthur will need down to the very last details, like hats, gloves and even a purse. He is doing it the American way, all or nothing. Arthur just shakes his head. This is why Alfred is in debt up to his ears. The Brit feels one of the dresses to find that is wasn't as thin, but rather quite well made in wool. Reasonable, Arthur thought. Maybe this will not be that bad after all? No, who is he kidding. This is a disaster already.

Alfred pays for the entire pile, and they take the purchases back to the car. But, Alfred is right back out of the car again.

"What are you doing you idiot?" Arthur asks with bite to it.

"Can't forget about the other stuff dude! Just follow your hero!" Alfred says laughing, running down the sidewalks of stores.

This is going to be a long day. Arthur reluctantly follows Alfred trying not to be seen with him. He is a child on sugar going through a candy store and there is not stopping him at this point.

* * *

"You absolute git. I was expecting one store. One! But no, we had to go to seven, seven really? Was any of that really necessary? Honestly. See, this is why I told you this was a bad idea." Arthur lectures as he closes the door to his house and locks it up for the night.

Alfred in the mean time is setting down their spoils from various stores on the dining room table, including Dinner which he pays for. It is fast food again, but Arthur supposes it's better than chancing it at the pub and getting drunk of his arse. Again.

"Oh come on, I have a vision in mind dude, you gotta follow that vision." Alfred says pointing to his eyes behind spectacles.

"Well I think your so called vision is why your in debt to China."

"Hey! I'll get it paid off. Just you watch." Alfred says taking everything out of the various bags and going down the hall to Arthur's room despite his many protests.

"Why do those frilly things have to be in my room!" He yells.

"Because I'm not the one wearing them, duh!" Alfred yells back.

"You bloody—whatever. It's not worth it to argue with a child." Arthur says to himself sitting down at the table.

Arthur peeks into one of the bags of food. Alfred has horrible taste. Then again, so does he so who was he to judge. Arthur starts unwrapping whatever Alfred has ordered for the both of them when he came back in a sprint back into the dinning room.

"Be careful! God, do I have to always babysit you?" Arthur says in angry concern.

"Just relax dude. I've got it covered." Alfred sits down across from Arthur. "Besides, I'm starving after all that." He digs into the bag and pulls out several food items. He begins to start scarfing them down.

"No kidding, love." For once, Arthur agrees. He begins eating his sandwich in a more proper manner.

"Speaking of," Alfred says with food still in his mouth, "What are we talking as far as a ballpark with the weight thing?"

Arthur swallows hard. He would rather avoid having this conversation. "I—I just want you to go back to your normal self, love." Arthur puts more of the food in his mouth to avoid talking.

Alfred knows for a fact he's lying when he's still in deep though after giving an answer and avoiding talking about it any further. He's the worst lair in the world.

"Come on Iggy, you can tell me. I won't judge. After all we spent the whole day on me, we didn't even get to you." Alfred says. It's the truth.

Arthur continues despite himself. "Well, what are you now?

"A very healthy one hundred and thirty yo! That's like twenty five pounds lighter than I was." He beams in pride.

Arthur is making the conversions in his head. Then he is hesitant. "So..."

"What? Come on man I said I can take anything. I'm the hero."

"It sounds a lot bigger because you don't use stones for some reason to measure weight but..." The Brit begins.

"And?" Alfred is motioning him to get on with it already.

"I suppose—that well—only if" Arthur tries to spit it out.

"Dude, just spill it!" Alfred yells before sipping on his coke.

"Oh okay if you want to know so badly, love, I'll tell you! Another hundred would be nice..." Arthur says silently at the end the exact number.

"Dude, I didn't catch that, can you say it again Iggy?" He says in honest between sips of sugary cola.

"I bloody said, another hundred would be nice!" Arthur yells as loud as possible.

Alfred spits out his drink forcefully. He looks at Arthur with wide eyes. Arthur covers his mouth with his hands, blushing in shame at what he just has yelled to the whole world.

"Dude, are you high? It took me like forever to get that twenty five pounds off!" Alfred yells in frustration. He thought it is a good idea to be skinny!

"Oh wait, I get it! This is just some joke right? Right? Please?" Alfred pleads with a smile.

Arthur after a long silence says: "Well it doesn't have to be exact, love." he tries to cheer him up. It doesn't really work.

Alfred is absolutely and utterly stunned. Arthur isn't kidding about Alfred not needing to return his favor. At all. It will be a giant undertaking. Not to mention trying to take that weight all off when it was said and done. Alfred just sits back in the chair thinking quite hard. This is more than a couple of pounds Arthur is talking about. He has been suppressing this for how long? It makes sense why he is at his neck to stop gaining weight. Arthur is attracted and he didn't like that fact. Arthur knows how he was afraid of scales and worrying about his weight so he just bottled it up really tightly for his benefit. Since what he says and what he means are two different things, all those quips about his weight are because he enjoyed what he is seeing. Everything is starting to make much more sense.

"I told you this was a bad idea, love." Arthur says with his head on the table in shame.

Alfred swallows hard. Yet, he is curious. "So how did you figure this out exactly?"

"Well love, your weight has always been up and down. I just thought that the ups were better than the downs I guess—bloody hell maybe I've just finally gone mad. I'm sorry..." Arthur says somberly

"Iggy are you sure you want this?" Alfred is unsure as he is talking. "Like one hundred percent? No doubts? Cause we can start smaller and-"

"I understand, you don't want to. You don't have to strain yourself, love." Arthur interrupts.

"No! I'm not saying that! I just...want to be sure. Cause you know once you gain weight it's hell to take off." Alfred says. "And take your head of the table Iggy, it's nothing that weird. You could be Francis."

Arthur laughs and takes his head off the table, "Yes, I bet that damn frog has a lot of secrets doesn't he?"

"See? It could be worse!" Alfred says cheerfully. He continues to eat but is silenced by Arthur.

"But is worse, love." Arthur says his green meeting the blue eyes of his beloved. He is so taking this too seriously.

"Aw come on, it can't be that bad." He waves it off. He takes a large bite of his food.

"I—I don't want you to lose the weight either." Arthur says full of guilt and shame, taking a sip of his drink.

"What!" Alfred exclaims, nearly dropping his food. This cannot be happening.

"I'm frustrated at you zigzagging around with this weight business! I just want you to stay the same." Arthur points frantically at Alfred, as he tries to defend himself.

"Then you always have to do the wife thing when I'm around." Alfred demands, slamming a hand on the table.

Arthur quickly makes up his mind. "Of course, it's only fair."

Alfred froze. Arthur is so calm about this now. Is it because he wants him to be happy? Alfred just sips on his cokes in silence.

"Come on Alfred, we're both adults now. You can make up your mind about what you like and don't like. So can I, love." Arthur says. "So either belt up or shut up." He crinkles up the wrapper of his finished sandwich.

Alfred does not know what to say or do at this point. It is a difficult choice actually, because as much as he loves eating he hates the weight. As much as he loves Iggy, he hates the weight. And as much as he wants to see him in a skirt with high heels, he hates the weight. But, like Arthur just said, you either belt up and work with it or shut up about it. He does hate diets, a lot. This is the first time in his life he's been a normal weight so there is that to think about...

Seeing Alfred thinking so hard about the situation at hand, A guilty Arthur tries to make it less difficult on the poor country. "You know you don't have to decide now, we can wait-"

"No! Either belt up or shut up! And I'm belting up. I want us to be together for a long time, Iggy. No matter what. And I don't want us constantly breaking up over stuff like this or that. I want a stable relationship. I'm taking responsibility. I'll do it. For us." Alfred declares in a heroic passion.

"We can have a relationship without having to satisfy each others horrible secrets, you know." Arthur reminds him firmly. They have had a good relationship before this. "You don't need to do anything for me."

"I know but, I'm doing it anyway!" He says in pride. "Because I love you Iggy!"

Arthur sighs, but there is a smile accompanying it this time."You never change do you, love." He says tenderly.

"Nope!" Alfred says before biting into his meal again.

Alfred wolfs down his food at an impressive speed. Arthur does the unthinkable and gives into his wants, giving the American more food while he should be telling him enough was enough a couple of seconds ago. Alfred cocks his eyebrows.

"I—I'm just being polite." Arthur says blushing the whole time.

"Sure you are man." Alfred says, knowing full well what is going on, but takes the extra anyway.

The pair just sit in comfortable silence, well almost silence if Alfred didn't chew so loud. It is a great relief for the both of them to get to an agreement on these strange matters. Very strange matters, that are best left in the dark. After all, it will be only between them. Just them and no one else. Although the thought of dressing up like a freaking housewife is the last thing on Arthur's to do list, he will do it to see that bright smile of his Alfred. They fell in love before these shenanigans, they will fall in love again. Though, it's not like they ever did fall out of love.

Alfred and Arthur just are curious among the silence if it's the right thing to do, to give into the things they had kept so secret from the world and each other. No wonder their relationship became sour, they aren't communicating their true extent of their feelings.

* * *

Hello dear readers! Odd Fangirl here.

First off thank you for the reviews, really appreciate them, you have no idea!

Anyhow, we continue with where we left off last time, and Alfred is on a mission! Why vintage? Because American heros were practically created in the fifties.

FYI It's actually cannon (in the manga) that Arthur like fast food too. So it's not improbable that he eats it.

So, if you find anyone OCC or lacking in personality, just let me know.

Again dear readers, review please! Favorites and follows are appreciated much as well. :)


	3. Warm Welcome Home

Arthur tries his hardest not to pick up the phone. Here he is, the older nation in the relationship waiting desperately for Alfred to call. Arthur is just sitting on the side of his bed alternating looking at the clock in his room, and to the phone on his side table. Alfred promises he will call. Before either nation can begin experimenting with each others interesting secrets, Alfred had to leave London for temporary work in America. He says he will call Arthur every night, which so far he has stuck to. Until tonight that is. Arthur has not heard a peep from his lover today, and it makes him nervous as all get out.

The phone rings and Arthur pounces on it, picking up the line.

"Hello?" Arthur says. Please let it be him. Arthur needs to hear his voice.

"Hey Iggy my man, I am so sorry my boss got tied up with this fancy dinner and stuff so sorry I'm late!" Alfred says.

"You bloody scare me half to death you know that!" he yells into the phone. "Courtesy dictates that you should call before your late not after, love."

"Oh, right. Well, whatever. Look, I have great news! The big boss says I can totally stay in London for as much as I want! Something about establishing good relationships with fellow nations or something."Alfred says in excitement.

"Cor blimey!" Arthur exclaims. "Really? That—That's wonderful news, love." he is in absolute happiness. He cannot help himself from smiling.

"Yep, your hero is coming back to you!" Arthur can hear the happiness in Alfred's voice.

"I've missed you, love." Arthur says a bit sad.

"I've missed you too Iggy." Alfred says in a somber tone. "But hey, I'm coming back!" He chippers right up.

"That you are. I should be getting things ready for you." Arthur says. He can talk forever, but he knows that Alfred has business to attend to.

"Okay, until I see you again Iggy!" Alfred chirps.

"Bye love."

Click. The line goes dead. Arthur takes the headset and puts it back on the receiver.

He's ecstatic that Alfred can now come and go as he pleases and yet, he feels so empty without him. Arthur does think it is time that he accommodate the house for his lover. He looks around the room until his eyes meet with a small dresser that is now, thanks to Alfred, stuffed with woman's clothing and accessories. Right, they have an arrangement do they not? Arthur is going to have to accommodate for Alfred's interesting tastes as well. He cannot avoid it any longer.

This task requires knowledge and forethought, something Arthur does not have on the subject of women's clothing. For that matter, very little about women. Let alone how they put their faces on or how they dress. What Alfred is asking for specifically is the fifties, a great time in American history. He doubts anyone still remembers how those women got their hair so perfect or how they skirts got so fluffy.

On top of the dresser is a photograph. It's Alfred's of the mysterious lady. A sort of example for Arthur he supposes. It's not just the look Alfred wants, it's the whole package of a calm, caring, happy housewife. Arthur can take care of the house well, and he does needle work, but he cannot cook anything if he tried. He also probably cannot pull off the look either, now that he thinks about it. A damsel for the hero, that is what he wants. It's probably because of his heroic nature that this whole infatuation with this image became so.

Normally in a situation like this he would turn to magic, but, for so reason he has a bad feeling about doing it, but he would have to for his cooking. Arthur turns to the old fashioned way for the rest of the information, books. Surely there are some vintage books that will tell him everything he needs to know about this subject. He would have to use blood, sweat, toil and tears but it would be worth it.

* * *

Arthur wakes up the next morning, realizing he fell asleep reading some vintage materials in his chair. He remembers now what he was reading. Being a housewife or homemaker is a burden heavy job! Cook every meal, keep the house clean, repair and clean clothing, keep yourself approachable, and care for you husband, and take care of the children if you had any. How did women survive? Sure, being a gentleman had it's rules, but not this many responsibilities and rules on top of that. Arthur thought that Victorian Era London is difficult, but at least they had maids and servants.

The Brit took his vintage books one by one and walks down the hallway placing them into his room. He knows everything there was to know about this. Playing the part would be easy. Except being nice to the husband part, that might be difficult knowing how much of an absolute git Alfred can be. Otherwise, Arthur has this in the bag. Practice does make perfect, so Arthur decides against his manhood to try to impersonate Alfred's dream before he comes so he doesn't mess up horribly.

The drawer Arthur fears the most is the one with the underpinnings. It will be difficult to swallow your pride like this. If it will give there relationship a bit of a jolt, it is worth not being a gentleman for just a little while. It is only for the bedroom, right?

Arthur slides open the top drawer trying not to look, but curiosity gets the best of him. Alfred overdid things per usual, buying them in multiple colors and styles. What he is thinking, Arthur will never know. He chooses something modest, white with a smidgen of eyelet frills.

"I cannot believe I'm going to be wearing ladies knickers." Arthur says to himself, beginning to strip down.

He replaces his boxers for the girly underpinnings, slowly shimming them upward. The knickers were tight. Arthur will leave it at that. No more, no less.

What surprised, and horrified him the most about the top drawer, is the brassieres. With frills and lace in all kinds of colors coming to a curved point. Sticking to his theme of modesty he pick a white brassiere with only a lace overlay.

He tries for what seems to be hours in all sort so directions and poses to hook the fasteners together but cannot for the life of him. After throwing it on the floor and cursing at the top of his lungs for about five minutes, the Englishman tries again. This time, he has it backward, hooks together the loops with the insanely small hooks and then turns the piece of clothing around to put his arms through the straps.

"Brilliant." He declares with pride, until he realizes he's wearing woman's underwear.

The brassiere needs something because it seems to not be as apparent. In fact, it looks awful. Arthur has and idea, but he hates it. He goes into the bathroom across the hall.

"I cannot believe I'm doing this. I cannot believe I am doing this." He chants. He takes some tissues and begins stuffing it with the cotton until the brassiere is full.

He runs in shame back to his bedroom, closing and locking the door. Not that anyone was home, but just for his pride. He trudges back to the drawer, wondering what other horrors Alfred has cooked up for him. He looks back into the drawer and finds a strange tube with clips, a girdle they call it. There are several, but Arthur just chooses a plain white one with a thick band of elastic at the top and a bit of frill on the bottom along with two metal clips. This looks more painful than a corset. Not that he's worn one.

Arthur steps into the constricting garment and pulls it hard upward, but it does not go to where it should be, so he wiggles the elastic band until it reaches the appropriate spot and without thinking lets go of the elastic that snaps him hard.

"Bloody mother-" He stops. This is no time for yelling. He should have thought before letting the elastic go.

It's a tight garment, it's uncomfortable, but it does make his arse look fantastic. From what a mirror tells him. It also sucks in his waist to the point where it almost looks like he has hips. Almost. He runs his hands down the sides of his hips to find a smooth transition.

Thigh high stockings are next on the line up, they're all a classy solid black, thank God. He sits down in the uncomfortable girdle as he pulls and tugs with much trouble the stocking up his legs. He tries a different method on the other leg, shimming it upward with a rolling motion. It works much better. Then, he takes the small metal clips, and clips the stocking secure.

He moves on to the next drawer, though bending is difficult in a griddle as it dug into his flesh. Inside are petticoats. Lots of them. Mostly calf length. Arthur just sighs. Alfred knows exactly what he wants. Arthur does as well, but it not nearly this time devouring. He takes two of them steps into one and then pulls the other one downward from the top. He looks like a bloody ballerina.

Arthur doesn't find anything else other than accessories like gloves and hats. Alfred must have put the frilly outer garments in his closet. He walks over in hesitation and opens the door. Several kinds of dresses with different fabrics, colors, collars and sleeves. It was overwhelming just how much Alfred has bought for him. There are even high heels at the bottom. He picks out a small v-neck with short selves that has a circle for a skirt. It's made of cotton from what Arthur can tell, so he slips on the well tailored dress over his head, putting his arms through the sleeves and pulling down. It takes him a couple of tries to zip the darn thing but he does.

He looks, surprisingly well in this. small bust, small waist, small hips and yet so much curvature. He runs his hands down the sides of his torso to find that there was indeed a curve there. The dress fits well in every place and flairs out into a fluffy circle at the bottom. It ends at his calf, covering the petticoats, but the petticoats making his waist look very small in comparison. He feels strangely erotic dressed up like this. He quickly bottles these feelings and goes into the bathroom. Inside there is what he fears.

Make up.

"Oh dear lord Alfred I will choke you to death for making me do this." he growls.

He, with much hesitation, opens a compact to find a sort of foundation. He runs his fingers into it and applies it on convincing himself it's war paint. Looking into the mirror he looks quite nice. His skin looks smooth and healthy. Then, there is powder in with a powder puff. He taps it all along his face, coughing from the dusty powder. Rouge is blended in with his finger tips at his cheek bones. The eyeliner is hard, he had to do it seven times on each eye to get it right. Sort of. Then, a bow pencil. Since the foundation covered his bows mostly he drew an arched, more feminine eyebrow on top of it. He has to do that seven time too. A wand of mascara, that isn't actually a wand, is run through his eyelashes. Finally, the lipstick. He takes the tube and twists up the red color stick and runs it over his lips.

"God, and people do this every morning? This took me an hour!" Arthur doesn't know how they do it.

The hair will have to wait, apparently you have to set curls overnight. Arthur goes back into the opened closet, grabs a pair of rounded pumps and slips them on his feet. He feels off balance as he tries to walk in them, nearly tripping every couple of steps. After walking only to the kitchen he feels like he is going to die in these heels.

"How the bloody hell am I going to do this!" Arthur yells angrily kicking off the heels "I wish I never said anything about this silly pact of ours."

* * *

After a week, Arthur has mastered the art of of being a housewife. Arthur got into the habit of cleaning the house top to bottom, with touch ups here and there. Cooking, thanks to a little magic he had the ability to make most anything palatable. Needlework, which he adorned several of Alfred's sheets with his talents. He always looks his best and puts his hair up before going to bed, unless he was seeing the queen that day. He talks nicely and tries not to swear like a sailor. Now all that was left was to please the husband of sorts.

Arthur angrily looks at the clock in the dining room. "Alfred..." He grits his teeth. "Where the bloody hell are you, you git."

Arthur slaves over a hot stove making a dinner for Alfred, wearing a frilly apron that he found amongst his womanly things. He cleans and decorates the house to perfection. What does he do? He is late to their meeting. He taps the tip of his pointed high heels into the tile floor of the dining room, where he is sitting alone. He is waiting for his lover to arrive. The familiar sound of a key turning perked him up, he stood up in the heels he can now walk in, and went to the door, dusting off his apron and dress. The door slammed open. There is a happy Alfred with his bags

"Hey Iggy, how-" Upon seeing those green eyes now lined with makeup, he drops his bags. He just stares with a deep blush.

"I'm doing good love, how was your day?" He asks going over to Alfred.

Alfred just is in awe. How he went from well, Arthur to this Arthur was amazing to say the very least. His hair is in sculpted curls. His face has all the works with red lipstick. He is in a black dress with several petticoats as it poofs outward from his tiny waist. He is in stocking and god those high heels man. Icing on the cake.

Alfred does what every man does when confronted with the person of their dreams, he runs down the hall way with his bags totally ignoring his lover. Arthur suppresses a sigh.

Alfred peaks out his door down the hallway to find Arthur waiting for him on the couch. Alfred slowly goes down the hall and over towards his love but doesn't sit down.

"So, ah, you've been busy huh?" He nervously laughs.

"I made you Dinner. I learned how to cook while you were doing your business." Arthur says politely.

"Are you sure?" Alfred is skeptical.

Arthur just walks into the dining room, strutting his stuff while he swings his hips. Is Alfred in a parallel universe? He can cook and looks like a chick? Something is up.

Alfred follows him, trailing behind. He finds to his surprise a table full on unburnt food. Alfred just sits as far away from this person as possible at the dining room table. Is he really in the right house? Or dimension? Was he abducted by aliens?

He starts piling food on his plate while his lover began serving himself too. This is too weird. He gulped, says a quick prayer, and puts the food in his mouth. He chews slowly and swallows.

It is actually decent. Awesome for Arthur's standards.

"Oh wow! I'm not dead!" Alfred says in amazement. "It's actually edible!"

"Thank you love." He says with a bit of bitterness to it.

Alfred keeps eating the good food, not having it since, well, never really. The more he devours, the more starts to show up. He is oblivious to it though, too busy enjoying actual food.

"You know," Alfred swallows, "If you are Iggy you look hella fine, you know that."

"Who else would I be? You-" He stops himself.

"See! You're not Iggy, you don't curse."

"Love," Arthur began smiling, "I am trying to fulfill your fantasy and it is really hard when you're being an idiot."

"Really! Iggy that is so awesome of you! Best welcome home ever!" He then begins to scarf everything down that makes it to his plate.

Arthur just covers his smile. This is working to his advantage too well. If he eats like this all the time, he'll be perfection in a matter of weeks. Not that he isn't already attractive.

"I'm done yo." Alfred just pushes his plate away. "Too much man, just too much."

Arthur gets up from his place and walks over towards Alfred with that feminine walk he has developed. He places one hand on the table and one on his hip making a sad pout.

"Are you sure love? I went to all this work and you aren't even half way through."

"W—Well maybe just a little more I guess." Alfred picks up his fork, pulling the plate towards him.

Alfred is putty in Arthur's hands when he is like this. A little more became the rest of the huge meal that Arthur had whipped up for Alfred with a lot of convincing and lustful implications. The more he will flirt, the more he ate, it is a fun game they're playing.

"Okay, Now I'm sure that-" Arthur stops him with a thin finger to his mouth.

"Ice cream?" He asks, holding up a bowl of his favorite dessert.

"I—I don't" Alfred is hesitant.

"I'll feed it to you, love." Arthur sits sideways on Alfred's lap and turns to spoon feed him the sugary dessert. Alfred has no willpower to say no. He just keeps opening his mouth for more like a baby bird and Arthur will give it to him in a second. He is in heaven, good food, Iggy in a dress, what's better than that?

After Alfred polished off the dish of Ice cream, Arthur got off his lap despite the many protests along the way from his lover. Arthur started walking down the hall beckoning Alfred to come seductively. He knows quite well what that means. He follows quickly behind Arthur, going into his room. Arthur shuts the door once the blue eyed boy is inside. Arthur lustfully pushes Alfred on to the bed. He starts unzipping his dress, biting his lower lip in desire.

"Iggy, man keep it on. Keep it on." The American pleads from the bed.

Arthur zips his dress back up and slowly gets up on to the bed, leaning over Alfred with his eyes half shut. Instantaneously, they begin to lock lips, Alfred is willing to go deeper into it with much more vigor than before, he pulls Arthur closers and closer until their hips and stomachs meet. Alfred runs his hand down to Arthur's waist and just relished how wonderful he looks in a dress. Arthur caresses every inch of Alfred, tearing off his clothes and throwing them on the ground while caressing his body as Alfred rubs against his soft dress and now existing fake bosom.

Arthur's stockings grace his outer thigh, eliciting a little moan from the younger country. His high heels are off his feet at this point, placing his knee between Alfred's thighs. Arthur was on fire. He started to get hot and bothered, he wishes he could take his clothes off, but that was part of the game. Arthur begins to give love bites on the lovely neck of Alfred, making the boy pant in desire. Arthur takes his lovers hand in his and runs them down his dress eliciting a very deep exclamation of desire. Alfred's hands travel down Arthur's back, grasping at his dress.

"Welcome home, love." Arthur licks his lips, green eyes meeting the big blues.

* * *

Hello again dear readers! Odd Fangirl here. Arthur is finally in a dress, Hallelujah!

If you find anyone OCC or lacking of character, please do let me know.

As always dear readers, review! Follows and favorites are appreciated as well. :)


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